


folklore

by JustGail



Series: Toss A Coin To Our Trope Jar [3]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Mechanics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Biphobia, Childhood Friends, Excessive Drinking, Friends to Lovers, Homophobia, Inspired by Taylor Swift, M/M, Mutual Pining, Non-Linear Narrative, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Sort Of, Taylor Swift references out the wazoo, and there was only one bed, for the witchers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:14:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26568634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustGail/pseuds/JustGail
Summary: Folklore: The expressive body of culture shared by a particular group of people; it encompasses the traditions common to that culture, subculture or group. These include oral traditions such as tales, proverbs, and jokes.//12 years after their childhood friendship was interrupted by Geralt's adoption, Geralt and Jaskier spend a fateful night together.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Toss A Coin To Our Trope Jar [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1926667
Comments: 18
Kudos: 57





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have not been shy about being a Taylor Swift fan before. I have two Witcher fics named after Taylor songs already. But the moment folklore came out I could feel this story coming together. It's been a few months coming, now, and the trope jar prompt list really just made me get my act together and start posting this.  
> There are references to Taylor Swift that aren't from folklore, but, y'all folklore is so good, please listen to it.  
> This fic _is_ planned out (for once in my life), but I really can't promise that it'll stick to the plan, that's not really how I roll. Anyway. I hope you enjoy.  
> Love,  
> JustGail

(just one single glimpse of relief)

The night was sweltering and the neon lights shone too bright for Geralt’s taste as he closed up shop. Not too far from him he could hear kids, presumably from the nearby college, screaming drunkenly into the moonlight.

Not that he was old enough to think of them as children. But some days it felt like it. Like the whole world weighed down on him in a way that it didn’t on any random twenty two year old. He was turning more and more into Vesemir every day, really, and it should bother him more than it actually did.

He sighed and, despite the heat, pulled on his hoodie, raising the hood, hoping it’ll protect him from the harsh light of the lampposts on his short walk home. He could have ridden his bike, of course, but Lambert had given him a ride to work this morning. Stupid. But it was what it was. Streetlights and heavy heat and screaming college students accompanied him as he walked the darkened streets, and he would bear it until he reached his apartment and turned on the AC and closed the blinds and could finally, finally breathe again.

Except, of course, that the drunken students decided to stumble right into his path. In fact, one of them stumbled right into his arms.

“Woah,” he said, laughing, and it had been years – over a _decade_ – but Geralt could recognize that voice anywhere.

“Jask?” he choked, feeling breathless and weightless and as though every point his body was touching Jaskier’s was on fire.

“Yeah?” Blue eyes rose to meet golden eyes, and then widened in recognition. “Geralt,” he whispered.

“Fuck,” Geralt said eloquently. He realized he was still holding Jaskier up, so he helped him to his feet, then took a step back. “I – “ But quickly he realized he didn’t know what to say. He had never been good with words. A lump rose in his throat, as if he was going to cry, but that was silly. He’d never been one for tears.

“Hey,” Jaskier said, softly. And then, to his friends, “Go on ahead, I’ll catch up.”

“Are you sure?” a girl with a kind expression said. “This is literally some random dude.”

“No,” Jaskier said, with a small, shocked smile spreading on his face. “This is _literally_ my oldest friend.”

(before I learned civility)

It was late September, but the summer heat refused to leave, leaving most everyone miserable. Not Jaskier, though. Jaskier was never miserable when he didn’t want to be.

And how could he be miserable with his best friend in the whole wide world, Geralt Rivia, right there next to him? Running through the fields and ancient forest grounds with him, play fighting with swords made of dead tree branches, daring each other to jump over ravines and skipping rocks on the shallow river near Jaskier’s house. Of course, back then Geralt was the only one who called him Jaskier. At nine years old – and Geralt a whole sixteen months older – Jaskier already knew that he was destined for something beyond this little town and his little name. _Julian_ , bitter and heavy on his tongue. _Jaskier_ was light. A gift from his grandmother. Her final one before she breathed her last and died, peacefully, in her little bed in that little house in that little town.

He would take this name and make something _more_ out of it.

But for now, he would take every excuse to avoid going home. And there was no better excuse than Geralt Rivia, with his strange eyes and long, white-blond-gray hair, and his rare, beautiful smile.

Even then, Jaskier knew better than to act on the fluttering of his heart. Recognized it for the deviant behavior his dad rebuked and would later swear to beat out of his son when he discovered sixteen year old Jaskier kissing a boy from his class in secret near that very same shallow river.

But for now, there was Geralt, who was quiet, but let Jaskier braid his hair because it pleased him, and would listen to him talk the way nobody else would.

The whole wide world, in the palm of Geralt’s hand.

Till the day the social workers came and took Geralt away, and Jaskier thought he’d never see him again.

(every version of yourself)

Saddled with an _incredibly_ inebriated Jaskier, Geralt did the only thing he could think of: he took Jaskier home.

Geralt had to all but carry him up the stairs, the scent of alcohol and something sweet that must have spilled on Jaskier at some point in the night overwhelming his senses all the while. Once he got Jaskier through the door, he unceremoniously dumped Jaskier on the couch, told him very firmly to stay there, and made him coffee. Jaskier gratefully drank the whole thing, and then promptly asked where the bathroom was, so he could puke his guts out.

Geralt sighed. This was going to be a long night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to write for class so of course I'm here instead.  
> I'm trying to put at least one none-folklore TS lyric reference in every chapter.  
> Enjoy!

(wasted like all my potential)

The way Jaskier told it, it went like this:

When he was nine, he lost his best friend, and things only went downhill from there, until one fateful night.

The way Geralt told it, it went like this:

His mother disappeared, but Vesemir adopted him, and things only went uphill from there, until one fateful night.

But another way to tell it, is that it went like this:

Jaskier got the idea from a movie, or a book, or a musical, or a friend of a friend, or a teacher, or… Well, it doesn’t really matter. But with his father unwilling to pay out-of-state tuition and Jaskier’s desperate need to leave the house as soon as possible, he graduated high school a year early, got a full scholarship to a college three states over and a minimum-wage store at a small music store in the town that had stayed open by virtue of the rise of the hipster and return of the vinyl, and moved out two months before his first semester even started.

At first, before he was allowed to move into the dorms, he crashed on the couch of a friend of a friend of a friend, a girl named Essi who he had connected with through Facebook. By the time the semester had started, Essi and her roommate Shani had become actual friends with Jaskier.

Jaskier may have moved into a dorm, but he barely spent any time in that cramped room he shared with a killjoy who he did not care for and who did not care for him. He slept there, sometimes; but just as often he found himself crashing on Essi and Shani’s couch, or sharing someone else’s bed. By the end of his first year, Jaskier wasn’t sure how he had passed _any_ of his classes, as he had no particular memory of actually studying for them or writing any papers – but he must have, in his drunken stupor, handed in at least _most_ of his assignments, because he closed the year with a solid 87 average, far beyond anything he could have expected with his work ethic over the past year.

He moved in with Essi and Shani for his second year, who were dating at this point, but weren’t obnoxious about it. Under their watchful eye, he sobered up a little, actually showed up to most of his classes, even if they weren’t required attendance, and didn’t sleep around – as much. He knew, in a way, that the way he had behaved freshman year had more to do with his upbringing than his own urges, but that didn’t mean it had nothing to do with Jaskier’s nature whatsoever.

Jaskier loved it. He loved being young and wild and free. He loved getting drunk and he loved sex and he loved showing up to his classes just a little drunk, making everything harder to learn and yet that much more interesting when he managed to focus. He had limits, but… he was having trouble keeping an eye on them, that first year. And in his sophomore year, he found that balance between real life and _loving life_.

Time passed.

Essi and Shani were a year above him, and therefore graduated when he was only 20. They had plans – Essi had accepted a writing gig in another city, and Shani had found a producing job nearby, and neither could stay. And that was fine, really, it was. They had lives. And Jaskier was – Jaskier was popular, right? He would have people to hang out with, and he would find a roommate with no problem. The roommate might not be as good as Essi and Shani at keeping him in line, but he was older and wiser now, and could keep his drinking under control for one year until he could join them, thank you very much.

(only twenty minutes to sleep)

When Jaskier had finished in the bathroom, Geralt helped him wash up and carried him to the sofa. Jaskier crashed almost immediately, and none of this was really what Geralt really had in mind for this evening.

“Hmm,” Geralt said, and left Jaskier there so he could go shower off the grease and grime of the day.

When he came back out, it was to a pair of ocean blue eyes, shocking in their clarity. He was smiling. It was as if he hadn’t drunk at all.

“Hi!” Jaskier said, suspiciously cheerful.

“Hey,” Geralt said, warily. “How are you feeling?”

“All good, thanks,” Jaskier said. “Actually, I feel like I should apologize. That was not the best version of me. It wasn’t even the best version of _drunk_ me. Drunk me usually isn’t – anyway. Sorry. And thank you. For the – you know.”

“Hmm.”

“Still as loquacious as ever, I see,” Jaskier grinned. “You don’t happen to have any tea?”

Geralt had forgotten just how _much_ Jaskier was. Or – he hadn’t forgotten, but had thought it was a feature of youth, something he’d grow out of. Apparently not. “No. Coffee or water.”

Jaskier made a face. “Ugh, no, one cup of thrown up coffee a night is enough.”

Geralt shrugged, and, in lieu of anything else to do with his hands, decided to make _himself_ a cup of coffee. It was probably a terrible idea. It was getting late, and he had a shift in the morning. But how often do you run into the boy you spent three years being friends with as a kid only to not see each other for 12 years?

Besides – and Geralt would never admit this, to anyone, ever, not even Eskel, _especially_ not Lambert – he liked Jaskier’s smile. He wanted to see more of it. He wanted to figure out how to cause it.

Again. How to cause it, again. Like when they were kids.

“So, uh,” Geralt started, not even sure what he was going to say next. And then, “Are you at the college?”

“Mm-hmm,” Jaskier hummed in confirmation. “Just started senior year. Musicology and business double major, although let me tell you, that was not easy to do.”

Geralt stopped, counted in his head. That wasn’t right. “But you’re not even 21 yet,” Geralt said, confused. “That’s not until November.”

“You remembered my birthday!” Jaskier said, eyes sparkling. Geralt averted his eyes, went back to making his coffee. “That’s so sweet, thank you. I graduated high school a year early. Did you go to school here?”

“No,” Geralt said, leaning against the counter with his mug. Jaskier looked at it – did he want coffee after all? “This is where my adopted father took me. I’ve lived here for 12 years.”

“Oh,” Jaskier said, looking around at the small one-bedroom apartment. “Not _here_ , here, though, right?”

Geralt’s mouth twitched, but he managed to keep from smiling. “No, I lived with him and my brother until about two years ago. I still work with them.”

“As?” Jaskier prompted.

“Mechanics,” Geralt said.

Jaskier didn’t seem to have anything to say to that in particular, so instead he started talking about his own life. Geralt was grateful. He wasn’t very good at asking, and he wanted to know; and he wasn’t very good at talking, and didn’t want to tell.

And if this was everything the evening was going to be – Geralt with his coffee, Jaskier with his words – if that was everything this reunion was going to be, and Geralt and Jaskier would part ways after this and never saw each other again, that was fine. Really. It was.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added some tags and changed the summary a little. Also, small edits may continuously happen to earlier chapters, since I'm posting chapters the moment I finish them, rather than doing my usual moderate to longfic practice of getting at least two chapters ahead of the chapter I'm going to post. Also, there chapters are so much _shorter_ than what I usually write. OTT had an average of 3k words per chapter. Anyway. Whatever. Enjoy some soft boys.  
> Also, please do comment if you notice the extra Taylor reference in every chapter. I'm just saying. It would be majorly cool of y'all to do that.
> 
> Also, let's pretend Jaskier drank water last chapter. I'll edit it later but I'm too lazy right now.

(if one thing had been different)

Jaskier didn’t spend time thinking about Geralt. Or, at least not much. Or, at least it didn’t consume his every waking moment. And that last one was even almost true.

It’s just that since he ran into Geralt the other night, he couldn’t help but obsess over it. It was – unexpected. And incredible.

He didn’t know if he’d ever see Geralt again, and that haunted him.

His friends teased him for being so spacey. They were right, of course. He wasn’t really _there_ anymore. Sure, he would go out with them on the weekends; they would drink, and party, and sometimes he’d even kiss a pretty girl or boy. But mentally, he was still there, in that small, cramped, sparse apartment where Geralt lived.

He was sure he could still taste him, still feel his hands on his hips, still hear his breath hitch, and his heart stuttered the same every time he let himself dwell on that one night. God, if he could just go back –

But it was… it was good. And if Geralt had wanted more – well, he could have said something. And Jaskier couldn’t stand the idea of changing a single moment of that night, drunken puking included.

God, he was such a mess. He just wanted to know if there was a chance, maybe, that somehow, in another life –

Maybe they could have been something more.

(ruining everything)

The silence was sudden and violent. Geralt didn’t know what to do with it. He remembered Jaskier being just as talkative as a child, but he was certainly never introspective – and yet, this is what seemed to be happening. He had said –

“And you know, being a year younger than everyone – “

And then he was quiet, and Geralt didn’t know what to do. What was it that had triggered this – whatever it is? He hesitated, and then held out his hand, reaching for Jaskier. Their palms firmly clasped together, and Jaskier seemed to breathe easier.

“Sorry,” Jaskier said. “I try not to think about it.”

“About what?” Geralt asked. And then, “You can tell me.”

Jaskier closed his eyes. “I know,” he said softly. “Maybe you’re the only one.” He took a deep, steadying breath, opened his eyes, and squeezed Geralt’s hand once.

“I was going to leave anyway, you know,” he began. “There wasn’t any place for me there. Especially after – well, suffice it to say, dear old Dad didn’t approve of my choice of partners. I graduated a year early, managed to win a full ride to this place on sheer luck, probably, and moved out a week after the schoolyear ended. Dad – he was furious. He refused to pay for anything beyond in-state schooling, and I refused to be dependent on him. And a degree in musicology – that was a surefire way to piss him off. He said I’m _ruining the family legacy_. I play four instruments, you know. But that – well, it doesn’t really matter. He does send me money sometimes, I think because my mother makes him. The business degree – well. Anyway. Listen to me ramble. Poor little rich boy, running away from his father. What a fucking _cliché_.”

Jaskier’s voice broke on that last word, and Geralt knew it was most likely taking everything in him not to cry at that moment. He didn’t know why – he didn’t know if it would even be welcome – but his arm seemed to have a will of its own, and it reached out for Jaskier’s face, softly cupping his Jaw. Jaskier closed his eyes again, leaning into the palm of Geralt’s hand, looking… content.

Something in Geralt’s chest felt funny.

It had been twelve years. Twelve _years_. But with all the changes, with all the growing they had both done, they were still, somewhere deep underneath everything, Jaskier-and-Geralt.

Jaskier’s eyes blinked open. And then, slowly, _slowly_ , Geralt leaned forward, and captured Jaskier’s mouth in his own.

Jaskier’s lips were soft, even softer than he would have imagined, had he had any time at all to consider what he was doing. Jaskier leaned into the kiss, at first delicately, but it quickly grew hungry, and Jaskier’s hands found their way into Geralt’s hair, and Geralt’s hands found their way to Jaskier’s waist, to his hips, his entire body _burning_.

 _Oh God,_ he thought. _This will ruin me_.

“Are you alright?” Jaskier asked.

 _Only if you’re right here_ , Geralt thought. And then he kissed Jaskier again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I somehow can both see the end of this and think it might last forever.  
> I finished one of my school assignments for the week last night so I let myself write this, as a treat. A treat for you? A treat for me? Who knows?  
> (Probably me.)  
> Please keep commenting. I know this is a bit of a niche fic (because who writes songfics in the year of our lord 5781?) but I would really appreciate it. Especially if you find the extra Taylor reference. Since Red's anniversary was just a few days ago, the bonus this time is from that album. And I didn't even plan it, it just worked out that way.  
> I hope you enjoy ✨

(laughing but the joke's not funny at all)

“God, Jask, it’s like you’re not here at all anymore,” Priscilla said. “Are you even listening to me?”

“Of course I’m listening to you,” Jaskier lied. He had not, in fact, been listening. He wished he could live in that brief moment where he thought Geralt was as interested in Jaskier as he was in Geralt. Childhood crush indeed. _Ugh_.

That number kept creeping up on him – _twelve years_. They were both so young. Jaskier remembered Geralt – of course he did. Even though he’d grown – well, a _lot_ – he still had those gorgeous eyes and the white locks that he wanted so badly to run his hands through. But Geralt remembering him –

He should’ve asked how Geralt recognized him.

Maybe it was an astrology thing. Two fire signs, destined to –

Nah, that was bullshit.

“Keep talking,” he said to Priscilla. “Seriously, I’m listening.”

He still did not listen. He tried to, he really did. But he kept looking down at his tea and her coffee and instead of hearing Elena or the music playing from the café speakers he heard himself saying:

(still changing for the better)

“Wait.”

Geralt immediately pulled back. His entire body was on fire. Was this normal? He didn’t remember anything feeling like this before.

“Sorry,” he said, instinctively.

Jaskier shook his head. “No, you don’t have anything to apologize for,” he said. “It’s just – we don’t really know each other, do we? I feel like – like I’m taking advantage, or something.”

“You’re not taking advantage,” Geralt said.

Jaskier pulled his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, as if he was trying to turn himself into a ball, or take up the least amount of space possible. “I don’t want – “

He didn’t finish that sentence, and Geralt’s heart pounded so hard he could barely hear himself say, “What is it?”

“I don’t want to hook up,” Jaskier said, “just because you remember me.”

That didn’t make any sense to Geralt. As if remembering Jaskier wasn’t a deliberate choice. As if he hadn’t thought of him, hadn’t remembered his blue eyes and delightful laughter, unlike anything he’d ever heard before or since, hadn’t held on so tight to the recollection of the one person who’d been kind to him when nobody else was.

But this wasn’t Geralt’s choice.

“Okay,” Geralt said, waiting for his heart to start beating again.

(to go with grace)

“ – so he says to me,” Priscilla continued, “that he doesn’t like my song, but _then_ he used that same – “

“Fuck, shit,” Jaskier said.

“Excuse me?” Priscilla asked.

Jaskier subtly pointed to his left, keeping his head down.

“Oh, wow,” Priscilla said appreciatively. “Isn’t that the guy from the other night? He’s hot. Did you hook up or something?”

“Or something,” Jaskier mumbled.

“Who’s that guy he’s with?”

“No clue. Stop looking at them!”

But it was too late. Geralt had noticed Jaskier, and the guy he was with had noticed him noticing, and seemingly frog-marched Geralt over to the table where the two were sitting.

“Hey,” Jaskier said, lamely.

“Hey,” Geralt mumbled in response.

When neither of them said anything else, Priscilla offered out her hand. “Hi, I’m Priscilla,” she said. “Nice to meet you. And you are?”

Geralt continued standing mutely, and the man next to him sighed in evident frustration and shook her hand. “I’m Eskel,” he said. He was tall, very tall, and strangely similar to Geralt, considering Geralt was an only child, as far as Jaskier was aware; they were identical in all respects, aside from a large scar which disfigured approximately half his face, and with dark hair. Honestly, Jaskier thought he was kind of handsome, and his voice was warm. “And this here is Geralt. I’m assuming you’re the famous Jaskier?” he said, turning to face Jaskier.

“Famous?” Jaskier said, quirking an eyebrow at Geralt, who still said nothing. “Yeah, I am. How do you know Geralt?”

“We’re brothers,” Eskel said.

Maybe they _were_ related, then. Separated at birth?

“Vesemir adopted both of us,” Geralt clarified.

“Oh, right, you told me about him,” Jaskier said. Priscilla coughed, and when he turned to her, her eyes darted very obviously between the two standing men and the empty table they were adjacent to.

Jaskier rolled his eyes.

She coughed again.

“Would you like to join us?” Jaskier asked.

“Certainly,” Eskel said, grinning.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished reading The Last Wish the other day, and Geralt is really an insta-love kind of guy, isn't he? Also, he's definitely a lot more talkative in the book, which I think influenced this at least a little. Also, the book is okay, but I really am such a big fan of non-linear narratives, so, very cool.  
> CW mentions of alcoholism, although it's made clear that there is no actual dependency. Proceed with caution.

(assume you know nothing)

“I’m just – can’t we just talk?” Jaskier pleaded. “Just – twelve years, Geralt. We’re not the same kids we were playing in that creek anymore. I’d like to get to know you – the now you.”

“Okay,” Geralt repeated. “Where – where do you want me to start?”

Jaskier blinked. “Honestly, I didn’t think you’d agree so easily,” he admitted. “You used to be the strong, silent type.”

“I am,” Geralt said.

“Oh,” Jaskier said. “Well – what about – maybe start with what happened when you were taken away?”

“Hmm,” Geralt said eloquently.

“You said you would,” Jaskier reminded him somewhat impatiently.

Geralt sighed. “Fine. Well, you know what my mother was like. I don’t know who reported her to the authorities, I didn’t ask. They probably wouldn’t have told me. I got sent to a foster home for about a month. Then Vesemir came. He was a very distant relative. He’d already adopted one of my brothers. Two years later, he adopted another one. He’s a brat. We had a few other foster siblings come and go, but the three of us are the only ones that were outright adopted. We went to the local schools, but Vesemir taught us his trade. After we graduated high school, we went full time. I’m assistant manager, I stay late a lot to go over papers and receipts.” He paused. “And that’s the last twelve years, really.”

“Fuck,” Jaskier said. “I mean, I can’t help but feel like you’ve skipped a _lot_ there. That was definitely CliffsNotes right there. But, thank you for telling me. Really.”

Geralt shrugged. “Figured I’m returning the favor.”

“Right,” Jaskier said. “Well, it’s not like I told you everything either, so that _does_ make us even. CliffsNotes team or whatever.”

“Hmm,” Geralt said. _The more things change, the more they stay the same_ , he thought. Jaskier was clearly older, but he was so much still _Jaskier_. It was mind-boggling.

“What?” Jaskier laughed.

“Nothing.”

“Come on.”

“What did you skip?” he pivoted.

“Honestly?” Jaskier said. “A lot.”

“Hmm,” Geralt said. “CliffsNotes, then?”

Jaskier coughed. “Umm,” he said. “My mother, I guess. She divorced my dad the moment I left the house. I think she’s glad to be rid of me, honestly. And… some substance abuse issues. Which I absolutely have under control. I’m not an alcoholic. I’ve gone without drinking for months at a time. I just, I like it. That’s it.”

Geralt had to fight the urge to take Jaskier’s hands. He’d said no. “Do you – uh. Do you want to talk about it?”

(didn’t pour the whiskey)

“This is an intervention,” Priss said.

She was sitting in Essi and Shani’s living room. Actually, Essi and Shani were also sitting in their living room. There was no banner, which was almost funny to Jaskier. How I Met Your Mother changed the way he would see interventions for the rest of his life. And he was currently experiencing one.

“Right,” Jaskier said, dropping his bag. “I’m assuming for me?”

“Yeah,” Shani said. “It’s for you.”

“Okay,” Jaskier said. “I’m going to get a glass of water. Then we can jump right into it.”

He got a glass of water. And in the little kitchen, he stared into his distorted microwave reflection and tried to remember how to breathe.

He didn’t drink the water. Just left it on the counter and went back into the living room. Took a seat in his favorite chair. Waited for someone to begin. When no one did, he prompted them with a “Well?”

“You need to stop partying and drinking so much,” Essi blurted, and immediately blushed, as if she hadn’t meant to say that at all.

Shani shot her a look that Jaskier took to mean that she indeed was not supposed to have said that.

“What she means to say,” Priss interjected, “is that we’re worried about you. Half the time you’re not coming back to the dorms at night. Finals are coming up but you’re showing up to class _drunk_. Also, fuck, you’re 18, kid. None of this is good for you.”

“I’m not an alcoholic,” Jaskier said defensively. “I just like – “

“We know,” Shani said. “But honestly, you could easily become one.”

Jaskier was struck speechless, which didn’t happen often. To say the least.

“Frankly, the amount of condoms you’re going through alone – “ Shani said.

Essi interrupted her. “That’s not what this is about. You’re on a scholarship, Jaskier. If you don’t finish the year with at least a B+ average, you’re going to lose that scholarship. You need to do better. Or – “

“Or we won’t let you move in with us,” Shani said.

“But – “ Jaskier protested.

“No buts,” Shani said. “Essi and I both agree on this. You need to get your fucking act together. Priss is keeping an eye on you in actual classes and right now in your dorm. But if you move in with us, we’ll know. We know what you’re like drunk, even with your frankly ridiculous ability to mask it – with anybody but us.”

“We love you, Jask,” Essi said. “But we hate what’s going on with you. And we don’t know how to fix it. So you have to do it yourself.”

“You really practiced this, huh,” Jaskier said.

Priss laughed. “You have no idea.”

“A thousand thrown out versions, at least,” Essi added.

“And then you mess it up,” Shani teased.

“Well?” Priss said, looking at Jaskier.

His chest hurt. But they were right. Of course they were. “Yeah, I see your point,” he said. “I mean – I’m sorry, but I’m not promising to cut it out completely. But, like, close to it? And – and you can make sure I don’t – go too far, again?”

The three girls exchanged glances. “We promise,” Essi said.

(things you can’t speak about)

“Fuck,” Geralt said.

“Yeah,” Jaskier said. “And we haven’t even touched the mom bit, have we?”

“We should go to sleep,” Geralt said instead. He knew how moms could be a sensitive subject, and he wasn’t too keen on bringing up any memories of his own.

“Right,” Jaskier said. “I’ll – I’ll call an Uber.”

“Don’t,” Geralt said. “You’ll sleep in the bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“It’s your bed,” Jaskier protested. “I’m not going to take it from you.”

“You’re the guest, and I don’t have another bed, so you’re sleeping in it,” Geralt insisted.

“Fuck,” Jaskier said. “You’re not going to budge on this, are you?”

Geralt _hmm_ ’d in response.

“God dammit,” he said. “Fine. How big is this bed, then?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapters are so goddamn short.  
> I wrote in the tags that I might change the rating, and it's looking more and more likely that that'll happen, so just warning y'all in advance. I'm shit at writing smut, but these two are so fucking horny.  
> TW biphobia in the first section. It's directly based on a real incident that happened to me when I was in eighth grade and made me feel like shit for a long time afterwards.  
> As usual, let me know if you spot the extra Taylor reference.  
> I sincerely hope that you enjoy this.  
> JustGail

(your worst fears)

He was fourteen when he realized this wasn’t going to go away.

He’d known, for a long time, that he was – not like everyone else. It took him a while to find the vocabulary for it, but… he’d known. It was just so hard to think about – so easy to pretend it wasn’t there. So easy to look away from the pretty boys with their lashes and lips and thighs and –

Well, he liked to think it was easy. It was not easy.

But in ninth grade, he had a friend. He had an older sister, who went to an art school, somewhere else. And she was bi, he said, as if it was nothing, as if it didn’t turn the world upside down, as if acknowledging that this was something you could be without any judgement or venom in your voice wasn’t a miracle.

And later, he confided in that same friend that he thought – maybe –

He laughed in his face. “You’re young,” he said, “how can you know?”

But Jaskier remembered the way his heart fluttered around Geralt when they were so young he didn’t know what it went, he remembered the way he had so carefully looked away from the older boys running track, he remembered looking at all the attractive men on TV kissing all the hot women on the same shows and not knowing who he was jealous of.

And he didn’t understand how his friend could be so accepting of his older sister, but couldn’t imagine that Jaskier, too, had a heart like hers.

And that was the moment he knew.

(wrap your noose around)

It was a double bed, of course. He wasn’t celibate. It hadn’t been that long since Yen – maybe six months? It didn’t really matter. And as hard as he tried to resist, Jaskier was insistent.

“I’m not letting you sleep on the couch when there’s a perfectly good bed we can both share,” he said. “Besides, you’ve already kissed me. What’s the worst that could happen?”

So much could happen.

They could touch.

They could _not_ touch.

They could breathe together.

Geralt’s heart could shatter.

But Jaskier wouldn’t take no for an answer, and so Geralt changed into something he could sleep in, let Jaskier borrow some of his old clothes, and Geralt let Jaskier use a spare toothbrush, and the next thing he knew, they were both in the bed, lights off. Geralt lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, while Jaskier lay on his side, turned away from him, and Geralt tried very hard not to move, tried not to breathe, tried to pretend he couldn’t feel Jaskier’s body warmth right next to him.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed. It could have been only a minute, or it could have been much longer. Geralt’s sense of time wasn’t the best, and he didn’t really think he could sleep like this. But it seemed like no time at all before he heard a quiet, “Geralt? Are you awake?”

“Hmm.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

Jaskier turned to face him. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” Geralt lied. “Go to sleep.”

“Can’t,” Jaskier said matter-of-factly. “I can feel the nervousness pouring off of you. Is it the fact that I made you share the bed? Or – “ He cleared his throat. And then, almost whispering, “Was it the kiss?”

“No,” Geralt said roughly. “You – you were – fuck.”

“I was what?” Jaskier asked.

Geralt could hear his own heart beating in between his ears. That’s not where the heart should be, he thought distantly. He was having trouble breathing, like something was constricting his throat.

“You’re always allowed to say no,” he said instead.

Jaskier was quiet. Geralt thought he might fall back asleep, but then he said, “I didn’t mean that. I mean – I’m glad you respected that. But…”

Geralt didn’t say anything. Jaskier continued anyway.

“I meant, it was so sudden,” he said. “Did I pressure you?”

“I started it,” Geralt reminded him, his voice still rough. “I – no, you didn’t pressure me. Did I – “

“No, God, no,” Jaskier assured him, sounding so sure that it almost erased every doubt in Geralt’s mind. “I mean. You are so fucking hot, it’s unbelievable. Would you - ?”

Geralt turned on his side, trying to ignore the way Jaskier had said _so fucking hot_. “What?”

“Would you want to do it again?”

This did not help Geralt calm down. “Fuck,” he said.

Jaskier’s eyes shone even in the dark. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes.”

Jaskier kissed him, fumbling in the dark, and Geralt couldn’t breathe.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These characters may be horny, but I'm still a wuss who can't write smut, so I'm going to write around it as best as I can.  
> That said, I'm working on geraskiefer fic which is currently very smutty, so like, who the fuck knows. (Also Jaskier is non binary in it, which I've been wanting to write for a very long time, so that'll be cool.)  
> I know I said in the very beginning that this is planned, and it was, but it's also gone completely off the rails by now with very little resemblance to the original planned plot. The only thing that's stayed the same is what song I'm going to use for the final chapter.  
> Also it's super weird to me that I've written more Witcher fics than Harry Potter fics. Not word count wise, cause OTT has 110k, but still. Cause HP is my _thing_ , JKR be damned.  
> As usual, let me know if you find the extra Taylor Swift reference. This one's a much older one. Or just plain comment if you're actually reading this.  
> Love,  
> JustGail

(I can see us)

“We could have been doing this for weeks,” Jaskier teased, holding Geralt close, playing mindlessly with his hair.

Geralt hummed. “Wasn’t ready then.”

“No,” Jaskier mused, “suppose we weren’t.”

(twisted in bedsheets)

“This is a bad idea, isn’t it,” Jaskier whispered, and Geralt knew it was, but he kept kissing Jaskier anyway.

Jaskier yawned.

Geralt raised an eyebrow. “Am I boring you?” he asked.

“No,” Jaskier said, then immediately yawned again. “Fuck. I’m sorry. It’s been a long night. I’m exhausted.”

“Go to sleep, then,” Geralt said, as nonchalantly as he could possibly make it.

“Okay,” Jaskier whispered. “Hold me?”

Geralt gulped. Nodded. Realized Jaskier probably couldn’t see him. “Yeah,” he said.

Jaskier turned so his back faced Geralt again. Geralt wrapped an arm around his waist and held him as close as he dared.

“Good night,” Jaskier whispered.

“Good night,” Geralt replied.

Within minutes, Jaskier was asleep.

Geralt was still awake.

He shouldn’t have had that coffee. It didn’t usually affect him that much. In fact, sometimes it just plain put him to sleep.

It was all a terrible idea.

He chose to attribute the buzzing underneath his skin entirely to the caffeine.

(stolen stares)

“So, Geralt,” Priscilla said. “How do you know Jask here?”

Jaskier wanted to die. Just a little.

“Knew each other when we were kids,” he answered.

“Oh!” Priss said, surprised. “Did you keep in touch, then?”

“No,” Geralt said, and didn’t elaborate.

This was going to be the most awkward lunch Jaskier had ever experienced.

“So, Jaskier,” Eskel said, and Jaskier thanked any higher power that could possibly be listening when his next sentence was not about his relationship with Geralt, but rather, “Geralt said you go to school here?”

“Yeah,” Jaskier answered. “Priss too. We actually met on the morning of our very first day freshman year cause we were in the same dorm.” He punctuated the sentence with a bit of an awkward laugh. It was probably inappropriate.

Priss rolled her eyes at him, but he didn’t have a good explanation for his behavior except for ‘this is fucking weird as fuck’, so he didn’t respond. “I’m studying film,” Priss said. “Did either of you go to school here, too?”

“No,” Geralt said.

“Yes,” Eskel said.

Jaskier was startled. He was under the impression that all of Geralt’s siblings immediately started working with their father. Had he misunderstood? “Oh? What did you study?” Jaskier inquired.

“I majored in engineering,” Eskel answered, “but really I just wanted to go and learn.”

The conversation continued, Jaskier, Priss, and Eskel discussing various professors they had shared, spots they enjoyed visiting on campus. Jaskier felt awkward about leaving Geralt out, but he seemed perfectly content sitting this one out. Whenever Jaskier tried asking him a direct question, he simply hummed.

And suddenly it was over. Eskel and Geralt had to go back to the shop, Jaskier had work, Priss had to visit the library. Jaskier had felt a little awkward the entire time, but still, he had dreaded this inevitable end.

“Just a second,” Jaskier said as they all got up from the table, “before you go – uh, can we exchange numbers?”

Eskel looked at Geralt in disbelief. “You didn’t give him your number?”

“It didn’t come up,” Geralt muttered. Jaskier had to stifle a laugh. He’d never have imagined him acting – like a younger brother. Which, well, Jaskier supposed he was.

Jaskier unlocked his phone and passed it to Geralt. “Come on, put your number in, I’ll text you and you can save my number too!” he said, and he didn’t even feel like he was completely forcing the cheer.

Geralt did as asked, and Jaskier texted as promised. And then Eskel actually insisted on giving Jaskier his number too, because “Geralt basically never answers his phone, and this way you have a chance of actually reaching him.”

Queue more embarrassed muttering from Geralt, which Jaskier found extremely adorable.

“I’ll text you later,” Jaskier promised, and then they were all off.

(He couldn’t even wait an hour. About ten minutes after his shift started, he had already sent Geralt three messages. And despite Eskel’s warning, Geralt answered almost immediately.

It was nice.)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have y'all _listened_ to evermore??? I've been losing my mind for two days now, first for the announcement, now because I've heard **no body, no crime** and it has made me lose my mind. I can't believe she dropped another album on us like this. I'm fucking experiencing whiplash, I swear to God.  
> Anyway.  
> Extra reference this time is to a song from the debut, and nobody has let me know if they've found a single reference yet at all, but please, if you do, let me know.

(a marvelous time)

The morning came suddenly. Geralt certainly didn’t remember falling asleep, and waking up was therefore quite a surprise. The warm body by his side was not so much a shock as much as it was a reassurance – he had not imagined last night after all.

What a weird fucking night, though.

The sun was peeking through the window in an angle suggesting that it was still early, and a sneaking glance at his phone confirmed it wasn’t even seven am yet. Still, normally by now he’d be awake, having already had breakfast and starting his morning exercise routine.

He didn’t want to leave this bed.

“Jaskier,” he said, his voice rough with sleep. When Jaskier didn’t respond, he followed it by shaking his shoulder lightly.

“Mm,” he responded, clearly not awake yet.

He shook him even more violently.

Jaskier startled and fell off the bed. “Fuck, what?” he said as Geralt held back a smile. He looked ridiculous, in Geralt’s old sweatpants and slogan t shirt that fit him far too well, his feet still tangled in the blanket even as he lay on the floor, blinking up at him.

Also, he looked fucking delectable.

“Breakfast?” was all Geralt could think to say in response.

“Uh,” Jaskier said, detangling himself from the surprisingly complex web of blanket he had found himself in. “Yeah, uh, I don’t really eat breakfast? But I’d love to take a shower, if at all possible?”

Geralt grunted, and in lieu of a response walked to the wardrobe and threw Jaskier a spare towel from the top shelf.

“Thanks,” Jaskier said hesitantly. “So I’ll just...” He picked up his things and headed to the bathroom.

When the door closed behind him, Geralt thumped his forehead on the wardrobe door. _Fuck_.

(with cellphones)

**_Eskel (9:05):_ ** _so are you coming y/n_

**_Jaskier (10:12):_ ** _duh. send me deets_

**_Jaskier (11:16):_ ** _see u tonight!!!!!!!_

**_Geralt (11:18):_ ** _Bring ice_

**_Jaskier (11:19):_ ** _[Ice cube emoji, sparkle emoji]_

**_Jaskier (13:22):_ ** _pls convince me this isnt a terrible idea_

**_Priss (13:32):_ ** _can’t do that babe_

**_Priss (13:33):_ ** _this is absolutely a terrible idea_

**_Priss (13:33):_ ** _be safe_

**_Priss (13:34):_ ** _don’t drink and drive_

**_Jaskier (13:40):_ ** _prob wont drink at all. gtb sober for w/e this is_

**_Priss (13:47):_ ** _good_

**_Priss (16:48):_ ** _what are you gonna wear_

**_Jaskier (16:55):_ ** _[Image of Jaskier standing in front of a mirror. He’s wearing tight black jeans, a buttoned up short-sleeved black-and-red flower-patterned shirt, and black combat boots. His right hand, which is holding the phone is adorned with three rings]_

**_Jaskier (16:58):_ ** _[A selfie of Jaskier, smiling softly. His eyes are subtly lined with eyeliner]_

**_Priss (17:01):_ ** _looking good babeeeeeeeeee_

**_Priss (17:02):_ ** _have fun [face blowing a kiss emoji, heart eyes emoji]_

**_Jaskier (17:02):_ ** _ill try [yellow heart emoji]_

(get your knuckles bloody)

The house was big, yet somehow smaller than he expected.

“Mr. Vesemir fosters,” the woman had said, “but he also adopts. The house will be full of boys for you to play with, hmm?”

And the house was, in fact, full. Five bedrooms with three beds each, and boys of all ages in each room. Most of them only stayed a few weeks, he would discover in time, some months. A couple even stayed for a few years.

But only Eskel had been adopted, so even though he was one of the biggest boys in the house, he was often picked on by the other kids, especially the older ones.

Geralt didn’t like the other kids. They were loud, and mean, and Eskel was quiet, and kind, and helped him find a quiet place to sit when it all became too much.

After a few months of kids shuffling around, various boys coming and going as they were adopted, returned to their parents, or moved to other foster homes, Eskel managed to convince Vesemir to give the two of them a room just on their own.

“Don’t tell anyone,” Eskel said, “never let them see when you’re coming undone.”

And yeah, maybe that was a fucked up thing to tell a ten year old, but Eskel knew Geralt by now, and he understood how _difficult_ it was for Geralt to handle it all. So whenever it was too much, whenever he needed to release, Eskel took him to their room and locked the door behind him (Eskel, being adopted, was trusted with a lock; the rest of the kids were not). And there, with the only person he trusted, he would break down. Sometimes he would even cry.

He grew out of it.

More importantly, as they grew, he and Eskel became big. Not big for their age, but truly big, imposing, and at least somewhat naturally strong.

So when Lambert came around when Geralt was 14 and Eskel 15, they did not hesitate to defend him against the bullies. Even as he became vicious and rebelled against their help, even as he spit on them and on Vesemir and on everyone else, they refused to let the other boys in the house do to him as had been done to them.

And one day, Vesemir adopted Geralt and Lambert, and all the other kids were gone, and suddenly the house didn’t seem so small anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this what a bait and switch is?  
> So yeah, things are changing in the fic. So far we've followed two timelines: Geralt's POV being the Fateful Night, and Jaskier's personal timeline and struggles, jumping back and forth, because I love non-linear narratives. But I want to explore Geralt's experiences more _and_ create a new steady timeline. So Jaskier's got the steadiness, and Geralt's gonna jump around for a bit.  
> Yes, this fic _has_ gone off the rails and has nothing to do with my original outline anymore. Oh well.  
> I'm really proud of myself with this one. I spent a long time thinking about how I could make the transition seem natural. So I took a shower about it. And when I came out, I knew - skip to the morning with Geralt, and it _seems_ like it's a continuation from the previous scenes, but it isn't, since I skipped several hours! And then, boom, going back twelve years.  
> I won't spoil the new steady timeline, but I hope to finally reach the end of this fic this way. Although it could take anywhere from three to ten more chapters to do so, lmao.  
> Please do leave kudos and a comment, it feeds me and helps me survive yet another surprise TS album.  
> Love,  
> JustGail


End file.
